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35''**s 7\HCR'3 Edition 
Ai«E6^ or Play-s 



ENDYMION 



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Endymion 



A Comedy in Three Acts 



/u^of^ 



By 
MARIE JOSEPHINE WARREN 

Author of ^^The Elopement of Ellen^'' ^-''Tommy's 
Wife^' '-^The Substance of Ambition^'' etc. 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 

1909 



Queen Hermia 

Erithoe 
Doris 
Calyce 
Thaleia 



P5 35^5 



Greek youths. 



Endymion 

CHARACTERS 

{JMortals) 
Endymion, a prince. 

Phrynia, with whom Endymion is in love. 
EuMENiDES, the bond-friend of Endymion. 
Kallisthene, Einnenides^ betrothed. 
King ^olus | ^,,^^,,,,-^,,.^ parents. 

PHiEON 

Admetis 
Greek maidens. Timon 

Alcides 

DiOMED 

Three Priests of the Temple of Zeus. 
A Page. 

Ladies-iii-w ailing to Queen Herinia. 

Royal guards y etc. 

(^Immortals') 

Artemis, goddess of the chase and of the moon, a7id special 

guardian of inaidens. 
Morpheus, god of sleep. 
Hermes, a tricksy messenger of the gods. 
Pan, ruler over the creatures of Die forest. 
Dryads. 

NOTE 

If it is desirable to shorten the cast, Pan and the Dryads may 
easily double with the Greek youths and maidens, and the ladies- 
in-waiting and royal guards be omitted entirely. 




Copyright, 1909, by MARIE JOSEPHINE WARREN 

As author and proprietor 

All rights reserved 



(g.Cl.D 1768 



INTRODUCTION 



The play may be most effectively given out-of-doors, either 
by daylight, or in the evening when calcium lights may be 
used. If these cannot be obtained easily, automobile search- 
lights, or even ordinary lamps with reflectors may be effectively 
used. A green light for the second act may be easily arranged 
with a sheet of isinglass or even tissue paper. 

Indoors the setting is not difficult to arrange. One wood- 
set throughout is all that is needed, and if regular scenery can- 
not be obtained, dark green screens or curtains make a very 
pretty background. 

The costumes should of course be Greek, of a carefully 
chosen color-scheme and gracefully draped. Correct costume- 
plates may be found in any good reference library. 

The Greek dancing suggested here and there is very easily 
arranged, but effective because of its extreme simplicity. It 
may be left out entirely, if desired, without any loss to the 
play proper. 



Endymion 



ACT I 

SCENE.— 7%^ outskirts of a forest at the foot of Mt. 
Olympus. 

Enter Artemis, with three maidens , garbed for hunting and 
carrying silver bows. There is a brief dance in panto- 
mime representing the stalkiiig of the deer in the forest, 
and ending with the shooting of arrows after imaginary 
game. In the ntidst of the shower of arroTvs Hermes ap- 
pears, as if just alighted. Artemis' folloivers exeunt, as 
if running to pick up the arrows. 

Her. Hail to thee, Goddess of the Silver Bow ! Well 
for me that I go upon wings instead of hoofs, else had I been 
the trophy of thy hunt. 

Artemis. Nay, then, what dost thou in my forest at the 
dawn ? What prank's afoot, saucy Hermes ? Hast thou scat- 
tered the flocks of my brother, playing at shepherd on the 
grassy hills, or is it some hapless mortal thou'rt bent on 
plaguing, that thou wanderest on earth while the east is yet 
silver ? 

Her. All the fair spring night, bright Artemis, have I wan- 
dered hither and thither in the mortal world in search of mirth. 
Now crept I down city streets in likeness of an ancient beggar- 
crone; now as a simple shepherd, piped beneath the window 
of a village beauty ; now strutted palace halls, a doughty cap- 
tain of the guard ; and ever have I laughed at mortal follies — 
aye, and immortal too, for I heard the lyre of thy brother upon 
the hills, and the call of Pan in the forest where I danced in 
the round of nymphs and satyrs. In the white city yonder 
there was dancing too, and feasting, for Eumenides, the bond- 
friend of the Prince Endymion, is betrothed to the fair Kal- 
listhene. 

Artemis {scornftilly). Another maiden caught blindfold 
in Aphrodite's web ! 

5 . 



b ENDYMION 

Her. {laughing). Thou'rt jealous, Artemis 1 

Artemis {vexed). Nay, saucy boy ! There be few maids 
among mortals who may enter my service — for in my train 
there be only those who are fleet and strong of limb to track 
the light-treading doe through forest-ways, — those who are bold 
and pure of heart and free of spirit, to scorn the mastery of man 
and dwell apart. Such followers I love, but not such weak 
and vacillating mortals as give over life and freedom and beauty 
of sun-bright hill and dusky forest glade, to sigh and sing of 
love and peak and pine all for the favor of some other silly 
wight ! 

Her. {gleefully). Aye, so it is ! And so say they doth 
Endymion for Phrynia, who smiles on all alike, and will not 
heed him more than another despite his beauty and his princely 
state. 

Artemis. Endymion, King ^olus' son ? Oft have I heard 
the baying of his hounds in the forest, but him have I never 
encountered, caring naught for mortal man. But of late he 
hath not followed the hunt. 

Her. Nay, nor taken part in any exercise or merrymaking, 
but gazes upon Phrynia, and sighs and sighs again ! 

Artemis. 'Tis pity. Haply the youth may be won from 
his folly. His name hath been ever sweet in mine ears. Is he 
strong and goodly? 

Her. Aye, beautiful indeed, kingly of port, and a hunter 
mighty among mortals. 

Artemis {musing). Sayst thou so? Endymion — Endym- 
ion ! {Rouses herself.) Nay, but I waste the fragrant dawn 
in this idle chatter. {Calls.) Oho! Oho! O-hc ! Hither, 
my maidens ! 

Enter Artemis' followers, ru7ming. • 

Her. Dost thou hunt in these woods to-day ? 

Artemis. Aye, that do we. 'Tis ever my custom in 
spring. 

Her. Anon will every glade be filled with the sound of 
mortal laughter. A score of youths and maidens from the 
white city are even now coming hither across the plain, to cele- 
brate with games and dances Persephone's return. 

Artemis {vexed). 'Twill spoil our sport ! Their empty 
chatter and foolish shouting will fright every deer to deep 
cover. {Turns i7nperiously to Her.) Thy task be it, crafty 
Hermes, to prevent their penetrating beyond this first shade. 



ENDYMION 7 

The method be thy own so thou fulfil my behest. Hast wit 
enough for the task ? 

Her. Aye, trust me, goddess — for thrice the task ! 

Artemis. Obey me, then. Hither, maidens ! To the 
chase I 

(Artemis and her follower's restime the pantomime of the 
hunt and exeunt J dancing. Her. watches them quietly until 
they disappear y then bounds and twirls lightly, chuckling 
with delight.') 

Her. Oh, ho ! Here's a task to my mind ! Never fear, 
scornful Artemis, they'll not enter thy wood ! {Stops suddenly 
on tiptoe, mischief incarfiate.') None but one ! Thou shalt 
see the love-sick prince whom thou so scornest, yet whose name 
is sweet in thine ears. " Endymion ! Endymion ! " quoth 
she! {He chuckles, then stops, listening intently.') Already I 
hear the laughter of the merrymakers on the plain. Anon 
they'll rest in this first sweet shade. To my task ! I'll fool 
and plague them from thy wood, bright Artemis — all but 
Endymion ! 

Sure, if thou meet him not to-day 
Then's Hermes' cunning gone astray ! 

S^Exit Her., leaping and bounding. 

{Voices and merry laughter and song are heard outside.) 

Enter Erithoe, Calyce, Doris and Thaleia, their hands full 
of flowers, and leading Kallisthene, about ivhom they 
have wound a long garland. ) 

SONG 

Garlands and song for the maid who a bride will be, 
Crown her with primroses, bring her in joyfully; 
In her light footprints forget-me-nots springing, 
Honor the maiden sweet; greet her with singing. 

{They break off the song in laughter, leading Kal. to a bank 
of turf , 7a here she sits.) 

Erithoe. Sit thou here in the shade, sweet Kallisthene. 
Doris. Aye, and let me crown thee with the flowers of the 
song. But first must I weave thy garland. 



8 ENDYMION 

(Sifs at her feet tveaving primrose crown.^ 

Thaleia {leant fig lovingly over her shoulder). Tell us, 
Kallisthene, what it is like to be betrothed. 

Calyce. Aye, tell us ! Thou'rt the first of us to have a 
lover. {Sits at her feet.) 

Kal. Nay, thou forgettest ! Phrynia hath many lovers ! 

Erithoe {disapprovingly). Phrynia hath no true lover like 
thy Eumenides. The youths do but seek her favor, because 
she grants it to none more than another. She flatters all alike, 
and mocks at all. 

Kal. Let Phrynia take heed ! The gods will be angry if 
she makes light of their gift. For surely love is the sweetest 
gift may be bestowed upon a maid ! 

Thaleia. Yea, tell us more ! What's it like to serve fair 
Aphrodite? /shall serve her ever ! 

Calyce. Thou'rt a child, Thaleia ! What dost thou know 
of love? 

Thaleia. As much as thou, vain Calyce, and that is just 
as much as Kallisthene will tell us ! 

Kal. I cannot tell what you would know, sweet friends ! 
'Tis a sweet pain — sad and happy at once, — and to me Eumen- 
ides seemeth a god ! 

Erithoe. Will not the Immortal Ones be angry at that ? 

Kal. Nay, Aphrodite, Mother of Love, will protect me ever. 

Doris {rising, the primrose crown i?i her hand). Here's 
thy garland, sweet Kallisthene, and I'll crown thee withal, 
despite thy blushes. 

{Places the primrose crown on her head. Th^four maid- 
ens take hands and circle about her repeating the song, 
" Garlaftds and song for the maid who a bride 7vill be.** 
They break off in laughter as before.) 

Kal. {untivisting the long garland from about her shoul- 
ders). Thou hast twined me like a shrine, Calyce ! What 
wilt thou do with thy flower chain? 

Thaleia. 'Tis a fair long garland for skipping the rope ! 

Calyce. Here, then, — I'll turn it for thee ! 

Doris. And I 

{A dance is interpolated here, in which Thaleia dances over, 
under, and about the garland swung by Calyce and 
Doris. Erithoe sits at the feet of Kal., and both watch, 



ENDYMION 9 

occasionally calling '* bravo " to the laughing trio. At the 
end of the da?ice Calyce and Doris catch Thaleia /;/ the 
garland and bind her arms to her sides.) 

Calyce. That's to hold thee down to earth, Thistledown ! 

Doris. Aye, or thou'it go floating off up Mount Olympus 
to the very presence of Aphrodite, whom thou wishest to serve. 

Thaleia. Thou may'st laugh, Doris, and thou, Calyce, but 
when 1 do serve her, 'twill be as Kallisthene here, meekly and 
truly, and not flouting at love as Phrynia does the Prince En- 
dymion's ! 

Erithoe. What means the child ? Endymion ! 

Thaleia. Yea, — why lags he else so slowly, with his arm 
on the shoulder of Eumenides, watching Phrynia's glances and 
smiles on others, instead of taking part in our sport as was his 
wont ! 

Kal. 'Tis true he seemeth sad. Look where she comes, 
and how far he yet lags behind in the plain ! Haply thou'rt 
right, Thaleia ! 

Enter Phrynia drivijig Ph^eon, Admetis, Timon, Alcides, 
and DiOMED abreast with garlands of floivers. They 
prance and curvet like horses^ and she flourishes a branch 
of green for whip. 

Phry. So, boy ! There Steady, steady all ! {Drops 
reins, laughing, and flings herself on the turf beside Kal.) 
This shade is sweet ! Oh, my breath ! (^Laughs at herself.) 

Admetis. I'll find a spring and bring thee water. 

Alcides. Nay, let me go ! I will go ! 

TiMON. No, I ! (^They push each other about.) 

Phry. Stay, all of you ! What, to quarrel on our holiday ! 
For shame ! (^They cease sulkily.) 

DiOMED (kneeling). Here are thy flowers, Phrynia. 

Phry. Thanks, Diomed ! (Takes them carelessly.) 

DiOMED {still kneelifig). An thou'dst give me but one to 
keep 

Phry. (very softly and sweetly). To thee, Diomed. (Se- 
lects one fioiver and gives it to him. Diomed springs up 
gladly, presses the flower to his lips, and hides it in his chiton. 
Phry., laughing gaily, calls.) Ph?eon, a flower for thee ! For 
thee, Alcides! — Timon! — Admetis! (Throws a flower to 
each, afid sinks back laughing, as they scrainblefor her gifts. 
Diomed walks away sulkily ; the other maidens watch and whis' 



20 ENDYMION 

per together disapprovingly. Phry., lightly to Kal.) Hast 
quarreled already with thy Euiuciudes ? Why walks he apart 
with the prince, on this our hoiiday ? 

Kal. {gently but coldly). To comfort him, perchance, for 
the hurt that others have wrought. {She turns azuay.) 

Phry. {lar^ghing and arranging a flower in her hair). Is't 
so? Alas, poor prince ! 

Thaleia {indignantly to Doris and Calyce). She hath no 
heart 1 {They walk apart.) 

Admetis. Here's a fine level glade to hurl the discus. I 
challenge thee, Diomed — thee, 'limon ! 

DiOMED. Nay, give it me ! {Takes discus and hurls it.') 

The Rest {quickly forjning a half-circle about hint), 
Diomed ! 

PHi^ON. I'll mark where it falls. {Runs off.) 

TiMON. Give me room ! {Hurls discus.) 

The Rest. Good ! Good ! Well thrown ! 

Alcides. Bring me the discus, Phseon. I will throw ! 

The Rest. Alcides ! Win, Alcides ! 

(Ph^eon returns, bringing the discus, and Alcides throws.^ 

TiMON. Mine was the better cast ! 

Admetis {boastfully). Mark me ! {Hurls the discus.) 

Ph^on. Timon wins ! 

The Rest. Timon I Hail, Timon ! 

Admetis. I'll hurl no more to-day. {Walks away.) 

Phry. {rising and coming forward). Nay, here's no place 
for our games and dances. Let's further into the forest shade. 
Come ! Who will go with me? 

Diomed. That will I, wherever thou lead ! 

Ph^on. And I ! 

{The rest rise and prepare to go on.) 

Calyce. But Eumenides and the prince still linger in the 
plain. How will they find us among the wooded paths? 

Phry. {indifferently). Our voices will lead them an they 
care for our company, as, by my truth, they seem not to do ! 
Come, friends ! " 

( With the youths about her she makes as if to lead the way 
into the wood, when suddenly Her. appears directly in 
her path y disguised as an old crone gathering fagots.) 



ENDYMION II 

Her. {scattering the fagots which he carries'). Alas ! 
Alas ! How shall I gather them again ! My back is near to 
breaking with the toil, while the young dance and caper and 
care naught for an old woman's pains. 

Kal. {f'unning to help him). Let me help thee, mother ! 

Doris {with Calyce, taking him by the arm and leading 
him to the hank of turf). Sit here, good mother. We'll 
gather thy fagots. 

{They go to help Kal. and the youths who aid her.) 

Phry. {gently). In truth I'm sorry, aged one ! I saw 
thee not before me— and lo !— Thou wert there in my path. 

Her. The young are thoughtless, and those that love are 
blind. 

Phry. I love no one ! 

Her. Eh? Eh? Mine eyes are old! I took thee for 
one called Phrynia. She loveth one in secret. 

Phry. {startled). How knowest thou my name, old crone? 

Her. Eh ? I know not ! I know not ! 

{J^alls to mumbling and shaking his head, like a very old 
woman, half childish.) 

Phry. (/^ Erithoe). Heardst thou, Erithoe? She called 
my name. Thinkest thou she can read the invisible and spell 
out future happenings ? 

Erithoe. Nay, I know not ! Would she be angry, thinkest 
thou, if we questioned her? Belike she's but old and foolish. 

Phry. But she called my name and — and told me some- 
what concerning my thought ! 

Calyce {going to Her. with the bundle of fagots which she 
and Doris have wrapped about with part of the garland). 
Here are thy fagots, mother, wrapped about so thou mayst 
carry them with ease. 

Her. {taking fagots and peering into Calyce' s eyes). 
Thou'rt like a moon-flower, and thy lover, a silly moth, 
blinded by the torch. Nay, but he'll back to his moon- 
flower when the torch is taken to light the prince's eyes. {Nods 
and mumbles as before. All crowd about curiously ; Calyce 
and Phry., after staring at each other for a moment, turn 
aivay consciously. Her. suddenly points to Kal.) Ho, Prim- 
rose-crowned ! Thy lover's brave and true. The vow he whis- 
pered thee in the dance last night he'H keep to life's end ! 



12 ENDYMION 

Kal. {aside to Erithoe). 'Tis true, he whispered in the 
dance ! How could she know ! 

Her. {to Thaleia). And thou'dst serve lady Aphrodite, 
little one? Aye, so thou shalt, in time. 

Thaleia. Mother, tell me more ! 

Her. {rising painfully). Nay, I must to my labor. {Lifts 
his arm warniugly). I charge ye, go not in the forest to-day ! 
Harm's abroad. Go not in the forest to-day ! {Limps away.) 

Admetis {crently detaining him). Stay, good mother ! Shall 
I win my heart's desire? Only tell me that, good mother ! 

Her. Harm's abroad in the forest ! Harm's abroad ! 

Admetis. Then if I'm not to win my heart's desire, what 
care I ? I'll brave the danger ! 

{The others turn to him, leaving Her. /;/ the background 
unobserved. LLe straightens his back and peeps out from 
his hoodf laughing gleefully.) 

Doris. Nay, be not over bold, Admetis ! 

Admetis. Thou shalt not stop me. {Makes to enter wood. 
Her. rising tiptoe, stretches his hand toward him, and he 
stumbles, falling forward. Kt)MEt:\?> rises furiously.) Who 
tripped me? Who tripped me, I say? Nay, I'll go no further 
till I punish him who tripped me ! 

(PHiEON and TiMON, on either side, soothe him.) 

Alcides. He is afraid ! I'll venture. There's naught to 
fear. 

Calyce. Prythee, venture not. In truth, harm's abroad. 

Alcides. An old crone's whimsy ! I'll go, I say. {Starts 
forward as Admetis did. Her. again rises tiptoe and 
stretches out his hand. Alcides covers his eyes with his 
hands and staggers blindly back. Rubs his eyes.) Who 
blinded me? Some one brushed a leafy branch across mine 
eyes and blinded me. Where is the coward who tricked me 
so? 

Diomed. No one touched thee, friend. 

Thaleia. In truth, I'm afraid ! {Points i/ito the forest.) 
See yonder light ! No, 'tis gone ! 

Erithoe. Heard'st thou the sound of bells ? 

(Her. leaps and prances in the background^ 
Phry. Some one plucked nie by the robe. 



ENDYMION 13 

Doris. And me ! 

Thaleia (^pointing). The light again ! 

(Her. dances off. They stand staring foolishly at each 
othei', then rouse themselves and brighten.) 

Alcides. Ill truth, methinks this is a cheerless place for 
merrymaking. 

Erithue. Let's to the broad green bank of the river. 
There's shade there, and glad light, and sweet flowers for our 
garlands. 

'J HALEiA. Aye, let us go. 

Doris. Thinkest thou the old woman was a god ? 

Phry. Sure she had more than mortal knowledge. 

Doris. Let's take her counsel, and be gone forthwith. 

Phry. A dance ! Let us go to the river bank. 

All. a dance ! A dance ! 

{The youths form a circle, the maidefis in the centre. They 
raise their arms, and as the maidens rush under, each 
catches a partner. Kal. is left alone in the centre. They 
circle about her repeating the song, — "■ Garlands and 
song for the maid tvho a bride will be,'' etc. Dancins;, 
they gradually exeunt, the first couple catching Kal. in a 
garland and leading her betiveen them. As they disap- 
pear Her., without his disguise, bounds in triumphantly, 
and stands tiptoe, looking after them.) 

Her. Thy task, oh, Artemis, is finished quite. 

Now to mine own — to bring him to thy sight ! 
Lo, hither fares he, lingering on the plain — 
Here shall he stay till thou dost come again ! 

\_Exit Her., dancing and leaping. 

Enter Endymion in earnest conversation with Eumenides. 

EuMEN. Prythee put off thy heavy cheer, my prince, and 
look smilingly as was thy wont. No maid in all thy realm will 
be won by so sorry a countenance, least of all the merry-hearted 
Phrynia. 

Endym. I thank thee for thy good counsel, good Eumen- 
ides. Truly I know thou art right and in very faith, 'tis not 
alone Phrynia's merry mockery that doth make me so mourn- 
ful. The wise men tell us well that a maid would not be won 
too easily, and by thy long faithfulness to gentle Kallisthene 
thou mayst bring example. 



14 ENDYMION 

EuMEN. Spoken like thy very self, sweet prince ! Nay 
then, take courage and a light heart to thy wooing. 

Endym. Sit here, Eumenides, and I'll tell thee all my 
heaviness, for thou'rt the truest friend ever man had. 

( They sit on the bank of turf. ) 

EuMEN. Thanks, lord ; indeed I love thee truly. 

EndyiM. Eisten then, and I'll tell thee what even the king 
my father doth not know, for I have kept it in my heart lest 
his gray head be troubled for the kingdom. When first I came 
to man's estate, secretly I journeyed to the oracle of the hills, 
where, in a great dark cleft in the rock, a priest of Zeus, filled 
with the mighty god, doth speak his words. 

EuMEN. In sooth, I knew it not ! What said the god ? 

Endym, Even that which now lies heavy on my heart, 
sweet friend. For the prophecy foretold that ere I should win 
my deep desire, temptation should assail me. 

EuMEN. That's naught to fear, my lord ! 

Endym. Nay, I know not I For to win Phrynia is my deep 
desire, and through what troubled waters must I pass ere she 
is won ? 

Eumen. Nay, read the oracle in more cheerful wise. To 
rule thy father's kingdom wisely is thy deep desire, and the 
lightness and mirth of youth be ever temptation to folly ! 

Endym. If so thou read the prophecy, then may my love 
for Phrynia be the ordeal foretold ! Nay, thinkest thou that, 
in very sooth, Eumenides? 

Eumen. I think thou sittest in the gloom out of perversity, 
lord, when the sun shines without ! Courage, sweet prince ! 
Bear thyself joyously ; so shalt thou meet trial strongly when the 
gods send it. 

Endym. Nay, thou knowest not, Eumenides ! Thou hast 

thy Kallisthene safe But look who comes ! {Enter 

Admetis and Calyce.) Welcome, friends ! Where are thy 
merry comrades ? Was it not planned that thy games should 
be held in the shadow of this grove ? 

Admetis. Yea, my prince. But a gloom came over our 
spirits in the forest dusk, and we hastened to the sunny river 
bank. Thence come we, to lead thee to our feast. 

Calyce. Served upon couches of bluest violets, sweet my 
lord. 

Admetis. There sits Kallisthene, crowned with primroses. 



ENDYMION 15 

Calyce. And there the youths run and wrestle, their prize 
a garland of Phrynia's weaving. 

EuMEN. Let us go with them, lord. 

Endym. Nay, go thou, Eumenides, to thy Kallisthene, and 
anon I'll come. I would be alone a while. 

Admetis {timidly). In truth, my prince — I cannot now tell 
why — I fear to leave thee in this lonely grove. 

Calyce {looking about, apprehensively). An old crone told 
us there is harm abroad for any in the wood. Come with us ! 

EuMEN. Aye, come with us ! 

Endym. Nay, when art thou grown so fearful ? Yonder's 
the smiling plain, and faindy I can hear thy merry calling on 
the river bank. Often have I hunted in this friendly wood 
which thou callest gloomy. Get thee gone to thy feasting. 
Anon I'll come. 

{Reluctantly, Eumen., Admetis and Calyce bow and 
exeunt.^ 

(Endym. sits lost in mournful thought. After a moment 
Artemis and her followers enter dancing. They see 
Endym. and start back angrily. Then Artemis tiptoes 
forward and regards him steadfastly for a moment, after 
which she, in pantomime, commands her followers to leave 
her. They reluctantly do so, and luhen they are gone, 
Artemis takes an arrow from her quiver and places it 
under a bush at some distance. Then she advances to 
Endym. afid assunies a tiitiid attitude.^ 

Artemis. Pardon, good sir ! Hast seen an arrow fall here- 
about? One of mine I let fiy, and know not where it fell. 

Endym. {risi?ig, startled). Thy pardon, maiden ! I did 
not hear thy li.sht step on the moss. Whence comest thou ? 

Artemis. From hunting in the wood. 

Endym. Dost thou dwell hereabout? I do not know thy 
face. 

Artemis {pointing vaguely). I dwell yonder — or mayhap 
'tis another direction. I follow in the train of the mighty 
huntress, and where her desire leads, there go I. 

Endym. Art thou, in very sooth, one of those maidens, rare 
among mortals, who forswear the company of man to follow 
the bright goddess? Thou art strong of courage, maiden. 

Artemis. Nay, I care not to parley, but to find mine 
arrow. An thou' It not help me, I must e'en help myself. 



l6 ENDYMION 

Endym. Pardon, sweet maid ! My surprise at thy silent 
coming maketh my wits to lag. Sit here ; I'll find thine arrow 
presently. (Artemis seats herself , watching Endym. as he 
searches about here and there for the arrow. After a viojuent 
or two he spies it and carries it to her. She rises and holds 
out her hand 7vithout speaking. Awed by her majesty Endym. 
drops to his knee. Spot light on Artemis as she rises is very 
effective.') Thou art the goddess ! 

Artemis. I am Artemis of the Silver Bow. 

Endym. Why dost thou come to me, bright goddess? 
How has Endymion deserved thy favor? 

Artemis. Thou art a mighty hunter, and such love I ! More- 
over, thou hast shown gentle courtesy to a strange maiden in 
thy wood, and for that I will reward thee. Wliat is thy heart's 
desire? (Endym. raises his head eagerly, but before he can 
a?iswer the goddess interrupts.) Nay, answer not, for what I 
give thee is happiness far beyond thy present power to know or 
guess at. Happiness thou shalt taste, Endymion, even to the 
measure of the immortal gods ! 

{There is a crash, followed by alternating flashes of light 
and darkness, during which Artemis va?iishes. Endym. 
finding himself alone, springs joyfully to his feet.) 

Endym. Bright goddess ! A shrine shalt thou have in my 
city, and eternal fires burning to thy honor, while my life lasts ! 
Perfect happiness dost thou promise me? Then what avail is 
any rhyming prophecy against my joy? I may win Phrynia — 
and win her I shall without delay, if there's aught in man's 
true love to win sweet maid. Phrynia ! Phrynia ! 

(Endym. rushes joyfully out in the direction of the river 
brink. As he goes Artemis and Her. appear stijnultane- 
ously.) 

Her. Oh, ho ! Oh, ho ! Well promised, by my winged 
cap ! Thou'st send liim to his lady-love post-haste, and anon 
will they hand in hand to deck Aphrodite's shrine. Thou'rt 
generous, Arlemis. 

AwTE^m {vexed). Silence thy chattering tongue ! Thou'rt 
overbold, godling ! Ill hast thou fulfilled thy task ! 

Her. Nay, I crave pardon ! I have fulfilled it to the 
letter, since no mortal has j^enetrated beyond this first sh^de of 
the grove. Say, is it not so? 

Artemis. Thou art a saucy fellow ! 



ENDYMION 17 

Her. Since I vex thee, I go. {Turfis as if to go.') 

Artemis. Stay. I have work for thee. Knowest thou that 
shadowy cave in the mountainside beyond the field of nodding 
silver poppies ? Near by, a little stream, falling down the 
rocks, murmurs continuously; and ever from the field the 
drowsy hum of bees arises with the breath of the poppies. 

Her. Yea, that cave I know. There dwells Morpheus, 
ruler over all the realm of sleep. 

Artemis. Tliou speakest aright. Then get thou thithei, 
swift as thy winged heels may carry thee, and bring from 
Morpheus a charmed dream to take a mortal captive. Haste ! 
— but ere thou go, send hither the headstrong youth 
Endymion. 

Her. As for the dream, thou shalt have it in the drawing 
of a breath. As for Endymion, look where he even now leads 
Phrynia to the grove, telling his love-tale to her willing ears ! 

Swift, swift I go, 

As arrow from thy bow ! 

[Exit Her. 

Artemis. I will be invisible to mortal eyes, and hear this 
wooing, — and if need be I will take a part therein, for if 
Endymion is to serve me truly, and haply be my comrade in 
the hunt, now must he fail to win a mortal love. 

Enter Endym. and Phry. ; he folloiving her with protesta- 
tions of love. Artemis is i?ivisibie to them. 

Endym. Hear me, sweet Phrynia. Why wilt thou mock 
me so? Long have I loved thee truly, long sought thy favor, 
as thou very well dost know, and yet thou mockest me ever. 

Phry. My grandmother told me — oh, and a very wise 
woman she was ! — that every youth would think himself in love 
a thousand times before blind Eros truly pricked his inmost 
heart. 

En'Dym. So it may be with some, Phrynia. In truth 1 
know not ! I only know my love for thee which holds me all 
in bonds, that I see no smile but thine, hear no voice but 
thine. Say, canst thou love me? 

Phry. (^yielding). Art thou true, in very faith? 

Endym. By what oath shall I swear ? 

Phry. By Eros' golden arrow — that selfsame arrow which, 
if I love thee too, hath pricked us both ! 



l8 ENDYMION 

Endym. I swear ! Dost love me, Phrynia ? 
Phrv. In very I ruth 

(Artemis approacliing whispers in her ear. Phry. breaks 
off as if ponder i/ig.) 

Endym. In very truth — what, sweet lady ? Nay, answer, 
love ! 

Phry. I — I know not. Even now I thought 



{Again Artemis whispers j a fid she breaks off as before.) 

Endym. Answer, I pray thee ! 

Phry. Nay, then ! As I do consider it, I love thee not ! 
I'd rather live a maid and free to wander the forest paths with 
Artemis. Pm weary of the vows of men. Pll hear thee no 
further ! (She turns to leave him.) 

Endym. Cruel ! Thou art cruel, Phrynia ! 

Phry. I'll listen no longer, I say ! My ears are weary of 
thy pleading ! Let me go. \^Exit. 

Endym. Nay, thou shalt hear ! {Folloivs her.) 

Artemis. All's safe there. She will not yield to-day, 
though almost had he won her. (Her. enters zvith Morpheus, 
veiled i?i gray and poppy-croivned.) Well done, fleet mes- 
senger ! In good time thou dost return. Now go, lure back 
the love-sick youth that follows Phrynia. (Her. starts as if 
to go, but remains in the back-grou?id, listening curiouslyy 
unobserved.) Welcome, god of sleep. 

MoR. Myself I come at thy behest, bright Artemis. 
What's thy will? 

Artemis. I thank thee, Morpheus. There is a noble youth 
who, for his good, must listen to my counsel, but so are his 
waking thoughts bound to a mortal maid, he'll not hear me ; 
therefore must I take him sleeping. It is my will then, that 
thou snare him in a sleep of such depth and potency that 
he may not waken save at my will. Canst thou do this ? 

MoR. Truly, goddess of night ! Where is the youth ? 

Artemis. Hermes will lead him to thee here. Endymion 
he is, prince of this region. Thou mayst know him by his 
purple chiton. 

Mor. a circle of the earth will I so fill with charmed 
slumber, that while he stands thereon, his will to sleep or wake 
will be subject to thy wish. 

Artemis. I thank thee, and with an equal favor will repay 
thee, when thou dost ask. Farewell. 



ENDYMION 19 

{Exit Artemis. Her. starts forward and stands before 

MOR.) 

MoR. Where is the youth Endymion ? Hast fetched him? 

Her. Anon — anon ! First 1 would parley with thee. 

MoR. Make haste then, for I would sleep ! 

Her. Change me the spell thou weavest for the goddess 

MoR. Nay ! Fetch thou Endymion. 

Her. As thou hear me not, and favor me when thou hast 
heard, thou shalt not sleep in peace till my wrath be appeased ! 
I'll dog thee with tumult ! I'll plague thee with noise ! Thy 
drowsy cave shall resound with uproar ! 

MoR. Peace ! Peace ! Speak thy will quickly. I'll do 
it if I may, in obedience to Artemis. 

Her. I ask but little. Only so far change thy magic spell 
that one beside the goddess may wake Endymion, and that 
one a mortal who loves him with such unselfish loyalty, that he 
will gladly resign his dearest possession for the power to wake 
his friend. 

MoR. Aye, that I'll do without fear of offense to the 
goddess, for no such friendship exists among mortals. 

Her. {gleefully'). Mayhap thou art right ! Yet there'll 
be a fine searching of consciences — a hurly-burly of excuses 
too, I'll warrant, — if thy condition come to the ears of his 
comrades ! May I be there to see ! Well, I'll bring the youth 
presently. Wind up tliy charm. 

{Exit Her., leaping and danci7ig. Mor. traces a circle on 
the ground and marks it off with strewn poppy-leaveSy 
then weaves a drowsy spell above it. Soft music. 
Dance pantomime as he chants.) 

Mor. 

• Poppies from the meadows white, 
Lying silent 'neath the moon. 
Drowsy blossoms, wield thy might, 
Weave thy slumbrous spell full soon. 

Let no touch 

However dear, 

Wake the mortal 

Sleeping here ! 
Hush ! within this sleepy ring, 
Let no sound, for good or harm, 
Cry of love or sorrowing. 
Come to break thy magic charm. 



20 ENDYMION 

Let no voice 

However dear, 

Wake the mortal 

Sleeping here ! 
Goddess of the Silver Bow, 
Thine alone this power to quell, 
'Less a mortal friendship show 
True enough to break this spell. 

Let none else 

However dear, 

Wake the mortal 

Sleeping here ! 

(MoR. moves back softly and slowly^ and stands motionless 
as Her., again in the guise of the old cro?ie, leads in 
Endym.) 

Her. Wait thou here. I'll bring thee the herb thou 
desirest. 

Endym. Nay, good mother, tell me again and truly. Will 
this wonderful herb of which thou speakest indeed turn 
Phrynia's heart to me? 

Her. 'Tis the most potent of all love charms. A drop of 
its dew in her drink, or laid on her eyelid sleeping, will snare 
her heart as truly as her bright eyes have snared thee ! 

\^Exit Her., chuckling. 

Endym. In truth if some magic aid me not, I fear me I 
shall never win her, despite the goddess' favor, for never saw I 
a maid so contrary ! {^He steps into the magic circle. Im- 
mediately he stops and his head droops forward. He rubs his 
eyes and takes another step, then stops arid sinks dozvn.) In 
truth, I'm very sleepy ! So great a drowsiness hath come 
upon me that I can go no further. I'll e'en rest here till the 
good old woman returns. The charm — Phrynia. — Phrynia 

{He falls asleep.) 

(Mor. advances softly and moves about him in a slow 
rythmical dance, chatiting softly. Soft music.) 

Mor. 

Round about ! Round about ! 
Web of sleep, closely cling ! 
Weave the spell, in and out ! 
Hum of bees, trickling spring, 



ENDYMION 21 

Drowsy noises, fill his ear 
That none other he may hear ! 

Spells are wound 

Charms are bound 
Till they're broken, sleep thou sound ! 

(MOR. retreats sloiuly backward till he disappears. There 
is a moment of silence. Then laughter and merry voices 
are heard approaching and the merrymakers enter, their 
hands filled luitli flowers.) 

EuMEN. {calling). Where art thou, laggard Endymion ? 
Thou didst promise to join our games. 

Kal. Truly, I saw him enter this grove. 

Doris. Yea, marry, that did I. 

Alcides. Sweet prince, hide not from us. 

Phrynia. Let us all call his name. 

DiOMED. Together now ! 

All. Endymion ! Endymion ! 

Thaleia {spying Endym. asleep). Look ! Look here upon 
the ground I 

Ph^on. Upon my life — he is asleep ! 

{All make the sign of silence to each other and tiptoe about 
him in a semicircle, those on the outside peeritig over the 
others' shoulders at him.) 

Phry. Let us shower our flowers upon him to waken him. 
Calyce. Yes — yes ! Come, gather closer. 
Phry. {to Eumen.). Give thou the signal. 
EuMEN. Ready then ! Now ! 

( They scatter their flotvers, laughingly ; then as they see 
Endym. does not wake, they tiptoe back, whispering to 
each other.) 

Diomed. How sound he sleeps ! 
TiMON. How shall we waken him ? 
Thaleia. I have it ! I have it ! 
Phry. Tell us, then. 

Thaleia. Thou shalt kiss him, Phrynia ! That will waken 
him without a doubt. 
All. Good ! Good ! 
Phry. I will not ! 

(She tries to escape, but a laughing ring is made about her,) 



22 ENDYMION 

Kal. Nay, force her not ! 

Erithoe. Aye, she shall ! Come, Phrynia ! Touch but 
his forehead with thy lips. 

Phry. Nay, I will not ! 

All. Yes, yes ! 

Phry. {laughing and protesting^ is led to Endym. She 
kneels beside him timidly). There, there ! Have thy way, 
foolish ones ! 

(She kisses Endym. 's forehead lightly, then starts back, pre- 
pared for flight. ) 

All. Brava, Phrynia ! 

( When they see that again he has 7iot wakened, there is con- 
sternation. They gather in little groups, retreating from 
Endym., but eyei?ig him closely.) 

EuMEN. 'Tis no natural sleep, thus to resist all means of 
rousing. 

Kal. Come away, dear, my lord. Belike 'tis some spell ! 
I am afraid ! 

Erithoe. Listen all ! Remember the words of the old 
crone ! '' Harm's afoot," quoth she, — ''go not into the forest 
to-day." 

Admetis. Erithoe speaks true ! 'Tis an evil spell. Come 
away ere we be caught thereby. 

All. a spell ! A spell ! Come away ! 

(All exeunt, murmuring and looking back fearfully over 
their shoulders, except Phry., Kal. and Eumen., who 
remain near Endym.) 

Phry, In sooth, I cannot bear to leave him in the wood 
alone, prey to an evil spell ! 

Kal. (turning upon her ajigrily). Thou hast no right to 
grieve for him. Hadst thou not driven him from thee with 
thy silly coquetries, all would now be well. 

Phry. Mayhap thou art right, Kallisthene, but prythee, 
chide me not, for indeed I love him truly, despite my mock- 
eries. I know not why I vexed him so ! (Bursts into tears.) 

Kal. (soothing her). Weep not. Belike an thou love him, 
good may yet come of it. 

Eumen. (kneeling by Endym., bends above him ; he rubs his 
eyes sleepily). Faith, what a desire for sleep creeps over me. 



ENDYMION 23 

Kal. It is tlie spell. Oh, an thou lovest me, come away. 
It will seize on thee also. 

EuMEN. {reluctantly rising). We'll to the city for aid. 
Endymion, sweet prince, what man may do to restore thee, 
that will I ! Come, my Kallisthene ! Come, Phrynia ! 

{They go out together.) 



CURTAIN 



ACT II 

SCENE. — Same place in the forest after nightfall. By the 
dim light Endym. is seen sleeping, still surrounded by the 
flowers streiU7i over him by his comrades of the day before. 
For a moment after the rise of the curtain all is still ; then 
a Dryad peeps out from behind a tree, listens and softly 
withdraws. From a?iother tree another Dryad peeps, then 
takes a feiv steps forward, listening. The first Dryad 
agaiii appears. They greet each other in soft, high voices. 

1ST Dryad. Greeting, sister ! 

2D Dryad. Greeting, sister ! 

1ST Dryad {calling). 0-e-e-e-e-e! 

Invisible Dryads {echoing^. 0-e-e-e-e-e ! 

2D Dryad {beckoning^. Hither ! Hither ! 

{Three more Dryads creep out stealthily^ stopping now and 
then to listen.) 

1ST Dryad. Hail to thee ! 

3D, 4TH, 5TH Dryads. Hail ! Hail ! Hail ! 

3D Dryad. Dance with me, sisters ! 

{They dance in little ^ light, ru7inifig steps. Suddenly all 
bend low to listen.') 

1ST Dryad. Hush ! {They rush quickly ajid 7ioiselessly to 
their trees, and stand poised, ready to disappear. Then gain- 
ing confidence, they creep forward again, beiiig joined by four 
other Dryads. Iti their light dancing they come npo7i Endym. 
TJiey stop i7istantly and stand poised, utterly motionless a7id 
silent for a 7no7ne7it. The7i they tiptoe about Iwn curiously ^ 
pointi/ig Imn out to each other.) Sh ! 

5TH Dryad. Behold ! Behold ! 

4TH Dryad. A mortal ! 
• Others {like soft echoes). A mortal ! Mortal ! Mortal ! 

1ST Dryad. Step softly, sisters ! He sleeps ! 

{They take ha7ids a7id circle around Endym., then resume 
their danci7ig, si7igly or in groups ^ no longer heeding hitn, 

24 



ENDYMION 25 

There is a stir as of wind in the forest y and the Dryads 
be7id loWy listening.) 

2D Dryad. Hush ! 

4TH Dryad, Pan comes ! The mighty Pan ! 

5TH Dryad. Joy, sisters ! Hail the mighty Pan ! 

Others {Jike sojt echoes). Pan! Pan! Pan! 

{The rushing sound increases. The Dryads sweep for- 
ward and back in irregular groups as if blown by a 
strong wind. Finally all rush forivard to meet Pan, 
ivho sweeps dancing in, as the Dryads part to make a 
path for him.) 

Pan. Hail, comrades ! 

Dryads. Hail, Pan ! Hail, mighty Pan ! Hail ! Hail 1 

{They form a circle about hi?n and dance to his piping, 
while he leaps and gambols grotesquely amo7ig them.) 

1ST Dryad {stopping suddenly). Hush! Hush! 

All {stopping and bending to listen). Hush ! Hush ! 

Pan. The tread of mortal foot 1 hear. Disperse, com- 
rades ! 

Dryads {^running hither and thither). Disperse ! Dis- 
perse ! 

{They retreat to their trees and Pan leaps into the darkness, 
remaining dimly visible. From ti^ne to time in the scene 
that follows the Dryads peep out, beckon to each other, 
and again vanish. For a moment after their disappear- 
ance all is silent. Then Phry. appears, evidently inuch 
frightened. She stops and looks fearfully about her.) 

Phry. I am afraid ! I did not know I should be so afraid ! 
The dark is full of strange rustlings and whisperings; voices 
»!all about me and when I question them, are silent ; shadowy 
forms dance and beckon. Oh, Endymion ! Endymion ! 
{She runs to the sleeping Endym. ajid kneels beside him, touch- 
ing lightly his hand and brow.) Truly I did fear thee dead, 
my lord, but thy brow is moist with sweet sleep, and thy hand 
is warm. Oh, what aileth thee, my love? Kallisthene saith 
'tis I who have wrought this evil upon thee by my mockery ! 
Is it so? In very truth I know not why 1 mocked. Ever I 
loved thee ! {She touches his hand again, ti?nidly.) Canst 
thou not move or speak to me — thy Phrynia ? Indeed I thought, 



26 ENDYMION 

if thy misfortune were my fault and I came alone to thee, thus, 
through the fearsome wood and lonely dark, and told my love, 
the charm haply would break and thou be free ! But no ! 
(^She shruiks, looking about her in terror.) Thou art so still, 
and 'tis so very dark and lonely ! Even the moon doth not 
shine. I am afraid ! 

{Slie Jiides her face and is still, cowering beside Endym. 
Pan advances from the darkness and peers curiously at 
her. He beckons and the Dryads creep out, one by one, 
and surround her, peerifig curiously, Phry. lifts her 
head and sees them. She springs up in terror and stands 
shrinking J not daring to run. ) 

Pan. Who art thou, mortal ? 
Dryads {echoing'). Mortal! Mortal! 
Phry. Oh, harm me not ! I am afraid. 
Pan {knocking). She is afraid ! 

Dryads {laughing in soft, high notes, pointing their fingers 
at her). Afraid ! 

{They take hands and circle about her, uttering strange little 
cries.) 

Pan. Be merry, pretty mortal. Fear not ! Join our 
dance. 

Dryads. Come to us — come ! Come ! 

{They siveep toward her in a circle, then aivay, breaking the 
ring and dancing singly to Fan's futing as before.) 

Phry. {falling on her knees). Aphrodite, Mother of Love, 
do thou protect me, since 'twas in thy service I came hither. 
I am afraid ! 

Dryads {laughing mockingly). Afraid! Afraid! 

( The dance becomes wilder. They sweep about her, leaping and 
laughing, led by Pan, who gambols grotesquely as he 
flutes.) 

Phry. {covering her eyes with her ha fids ; then gathering 
courage). I will be gone ! Sleep safe, my love, since I may 
not wake thee ! Farewell ! {Runs out toward the city.) 

Dryads {echoing as they dance). Farewell ! Farewell ! 

( They dance lightly and softly again. A glinunering of light 
shines faintly through the trees.) 



ENDYMION 



27 



1ST Dryad. Behold ! Behold ! 

8th Dryad. Artemis comes ! 

Pan. Artemis, Queen of Night ! Do her honor, comrades. 
(^The light increases, growing gradually into a broad pathway 
through the trees to where Endvm. lies. In this patJnvay 
Artemis appears, majestic in filmy pale gold drapery, a cres- 
cent on her forehead. She moves imperiously forivard down 
the path of light.) Hail to thee, radiant Artemis ! 

9TH Dryad. Hail, Queen of Night ! 

Dryads. Hail ! Hail ! Hail ! 

(^The Dryads circle about Artemis, bendi7ig low in token of 
homage.) 

Artemis. Greeting, friends! (^To Pan.) Now, mighty 
Pan, lead thou thy comrades off to dance their measures in 
another grove. Here it pleaseth me to walk alone. 

Pan. The goddess speaks. Obey, my comrades. Follow ! 

Dryads. We follow. Pan ! Pan ! 

(Pan leads the way, piping, and Dryads dance out. Ar- 
temis advances down the ray of light to Endym.) 

Artemis. Endymion ! I call thee to awake ! 

Endym. {stirring drowsily, then sitting up, shading his eyes 
with his hand). Aye me ! I must have slept. Hasten with 
thy herbs, good mother ! Phrynia (^He breaks off, look- 
ing amaze dly about him.') I dream ! 

Artemis. Nay, Endymion ! All else is but a dream. Now 
thou hast awakened truly. 

Endym. {rising to his knee). Most beautiful vision ! Why 
dost thou coQie to me ? What do I here ? 'Tis night ! Where 
are my comrades? Where is Phrynia? Oh, tell me thy will ! 

Artemis. 'Tis quickly told — that thou forget these mortals 
and resign thy mortal place. Then thou shalt live forever as 
the gods live. Wilt thou do this and receive my gift? 

Endym. Nay, I understand thee not, great Artemis. 'Tis 
past believing ! What dost thou ask, — what offer me? 

Artemis. Immortality, I offer, and eternal youth ! 

Endym. Eternal youth ! 

Artemis. Aye, and eternal happiness ! Bethink thee, En- 
dymion ! Endless freedom to roam the sun-bright hills and 
fragrant forest glades ; at the rosy dawn to join the merry hunt ; 
at noon to rest in beds of violets ; at night to feast with the 



28 ENDYMION 

Immortal Ones on high Olympus ! All this shalt thou do if 
thou wilt be my comrade of the hunt. 

Endym. (sprmging up and turning away, pressing his hands 
over his eyes). 'Tis not true ! I dream ! Surely 1 dream ! 

Artemis. Nay, Endymion, thou dost not dream. Touch 
my hand. Is it not real ? (^She graciously extends her hand^ 
which he, kneeling, reverently touches with his forehead.) Re«. 
member how I met thee this morning, and did promise thee 
greater happiness than thou couldst guess ! 

Endym. Phrynia ! Methought thou meantest Phrynia's 
love, and when I fell asleep, 'twas in the hope of winning her. 
My dreams have been all of her — and now it seems that through 
my very sleep I heard her voice in fear. Haply 'twas truth 
and no dream ! Bright Artemis ! I do crave thy leave to go 
and see that all is well with her. 

Artemis. Foolish boy ! Think not of Phrynia ; she is safe. 
Think of the gift I promise thee. Canst not forget thy little 
mortal joys, to win the bliss of the very gods? 

Endym. Nay, mighty Artemis — how can I forget Phrynia 
who has all my heart? {Rises.) Sooner might I forget my 
life itself than Phrynia ! 

Artemis. Phrynia will grow old. Her chestnut hair will 
turn to silver, her limbs lose their vigor and lightsome motion. 

Endym. Aye, so it is with the gentle Queen, my mother, 
yet doth my father love her ever. Moreover my father him- 
self waxeth old, sweet goddess, and doth look to me to govern 
wisely in his stead. How may I do this, following the hunt 
with thee? 

Artemis. Foolish Endymion ! Almost dost thou vex me 1 
Behold, I offer thee immortal joys and dost thou choose to bind 
thyself to age and care and death ? 

Endym. Phrynia and my kingdom I must choose ! 

Artemis. Take then thy choice, blind youth ! Sleep on, 
and better wisdom come to thee in dreams ! 

{She turns from hiin and glides 77iafes tic ally away, along her 
path of light.) 

Endym. {struggling to folloiv her). What bands hold me — 
soft as cobweb but strong as steel ! {He falls to his knees.) 
Bright goddess, turn again and hear me ! Be not angry, 
Artemis ! 

Artemis {turjiingfust before she vanishes). Farewell, En- 



ENDYMION 29 

dymion ! I would thou hadst chosen otherwise, but thou must 
abide thy choice. Sleep and forget my coming ! Farewell ! 

{She disappears, and the light fades gradually.') 

Endym. a hateful drowsiness creeps on me, stealing the 
strength from my limbs. (^He sinks doivn.) Beautiful Artemis, 

I meant not to offend thee, but Phrynia {He struggles 

agaijist sleep which gradually overcomes him.) Phrynia and 
ray kingdom — I must — choose ! 

{He sleeps. There is silence and semi-darkness as at the 
beginning of the act. Then Dryads creep back, one by 
one, and gradually resume their interrupted dance.) 



CURTAIN 



ACT III 

SCENE. — The satne place in the forest the followiiig mornhig. 
Endym. is seen sleeping as before. 

Enter y as if just alighted^ Her. He dances, tiptoe, to Endym., 
and stands over him, chuckling mischievously. 

Her. Still here, sleeper ? In faith, thou takest a long nap ! 
Up, sluggard ! Up ! The sun is high in heaven ! {Laughs 
gleefully.) What? Wilt not obey nie? Sure, 'tis a good 
charm — and who's to break it ! (^He leaps over Endym. and 
seats himself calmly on the sleeping prince.') All night the city 
hummed like a hive of angry bees. There were tramps of 
guard and chanting of priest, and a fine running to and fro in 
the palace. Crones gossiped in corners ; youths and maids 
forgot to speak of love. 'Tvvas *' Alas, poor prince ! Surely 
the gods be vexed with us, thus to enchant our sweet Endym- 
ion ! " {Sighs with mock mouriiftilness, then springs up and 
prances about the stage.) Anon will they hither to gaze upon 
him curiously, whispering each other strange tales of old charms 
until all nod and wisely say — '' Aye, so it is with our prince ! 
We understand — we understand." {Stops short to look cu- 
riously at Endym.) Would that I understood, thou sleeping 
secret ! Why art thou not joyously tracking the antlered stag, 
this gracious morning, with the train of Artemis? Faith, 
there's that in a mortal's heart that Hermes may not know ! 
{Lightly once more.) But I'll to the city — and anon when time 
is, they shall know the key to unlock thy sleepy charm. Lo, 
here is he that boasts himself thy friend. I'll leave him to his 
gazing. [^5":^// Her., leaping and ruiming. 

Enter, by another path, Eumen. with Kal, 

Kal. Nay, love, I will stay close to thee. An thou risk the 
sleepy charm by coming hither, I must e'en risk it too, for life 
is nought to me without thee. 

Eumen. {putting his arm about her and leading her for- 
ward). And to me, sweet, life without thee were worse than 
death. Faith, how lived I so long and held thee not mine 
own ? 

30 



ENDYMION 31 

Kal. Dost not think the mighty fates have ever twined our 
life-threads, though we knew it not ? 

EuMEN. Truly 'tis a sweet thought, and thou the sweetest 
maid the world boasts. I know not how thou canst love me ! 

Kal. I am thy very own, Eumenides ! 

EuMEN. And my most precious of possessions ! 

(^Kisses her.) 

Kal. In faith, 'tis wicked to be so happy, love, when our 
poor prince lies yonder, bound by a power we may not under- 
stand. 

{They approach Endym. and stand looking pityingly down 
on him.) 

EuMEN. But yesterday it was he walked and talked with 
me, and trusted me even with his most secret thought. 

Kal. But yesterday it was that he wooed Phrynia and 
she did mock at him. Alas, poor maid, her heart is sore 
enough to-day ! 

EuMEN. Does she in truth love Endymion ? 

Kal. Even as I love thee ! 

EuMEN. Unhappy prince ! What fate binds up thine ears 
that these tidings thou hast so long yearned to hear may not 
reach thee ! Oh, that the strength of my friendship might 
avail against this curst enchantment ! What would I not do, 
if by the doing I might bring thee back to love and happiness ! 

Kal. Dear, my lord ! I do love thee for thy true friendship 
to thy prince, and if thou might'st do aught, I would not 
hinder thee, e'en if the task were perilous and my heart ached 
with the fear of losing thee ! 

EuMEN. That is my brave Kallisthene ! 

Kal. Let us go comfort Phrynia. Truly our happiness 
seems selfish else. 

EuMEN. As ever, thou art right. But look, who's here ! 
(Enter a Page running.') What's thy tidings, boy ? 

Page. The King and Queen come hither across the plain, 
with priests from the Temple of Zeus. They will ask the gods 
whether the prince may not awake. {Spies Endym.) Lo ! 
How he sleeps ! 

Eumen. Aye — too sound ! Come, Kallisthene ! Go we to 
meet the King ! 

{Exeunt Eumen. and Kal., followed by the Page, who 
looks back curiously at Endym. asleep.) 



32 



ENDYMION 



Enter Her. leaping. 



Her. Lo, the bees swarm out of their hive and bring their 
buzzing into the forest. Now there will be sport ! What shall 
the oracle answer ? Haply Artemis will relent, and spoil this 
ray pretty plan ! I'll listen near by. 

What's to come the Fates decree. 
We shall see what we shall see ! 

(Her. skips out of sight Just as the King's procession 
enters. First come royal guards beari?ig shields and 
spears ; then the King leading the Queen ; then ladies 
of the court, and a Page ; then Eumen. and Kal. leading 
Phry. ; atid last, the youths and maidens who were 
Endym.'s comrades in the holiday. The last-named form 
a semicircular background.') 

Queen (Jiurrying forward, kneels beside Endym.). Alas, 
sweet son ! what aileth thee? Canst not wake for thy mother, 
dear lad? {To the King, who has followed her and stands be- 
side Endym.) Look — look here, my lord ! See how he sleeps, 
sweetly as in childhood. Sure, the gods cannot be wroth with 
so noble a youth as our son ! 

King. There be councils among the Immortal Ones that we 
may not know or understand, sweet life. Nevertheless I do 
hope that the Priests of Zeus the Mighty, who even now make 
sacrifice in the temple, may find our son guiltless in the sight 
of the gods, and may haply learn how to restore him to his 
wonted self. Meanwhile, stay not too near the prince lest thou 
provoke the gods to wrath and turn their favor from us. 

{(xives the Queen his hand and leads her to her ladies.) 

Queen. Will it he long, lord, ere we may know the 
auspices of the sacrifice ? 

King. Go, one of ye, and see if the priests be yet within 
the city gates. 

Page {bowing). I go ! {^Runs out.) 

King. Tell nie again, Eumenides. The prince was well 
and in his wonted spirits when he talked with thee yesterday. 

Eumen. {howijig). Two troubled thoughts, oh, King, 
harbored in Endymion's mind when last we spoke together : 
fear lest he should not prove a worthy successor to thy 



ENDYMION 



33 



throne in days to come, and doubt that he might win the hand 
of Phrynia whom he long hath sought, — but naught of evil 
omen ! 

Phry. (k?iee/ing at the King's/?^/). Good, my lord, I do 
repent me that I mocked him ! Thinkest thou that I worked 
him evil ? Alas, the day ! 

King {kindly). Nay, sweet maid. Thy mocking was but 
the lightness of happy youth. Fear nothing. 

Phry. 1 thank thee for thy comfort. 

{She goes back to Kal.) 
Enter the Page ru/i?itfig. He kneels before the King. 

King. Be the priests come ? 

Page. Yea, lord. Even now ihey enter the grove. 

King. Thanks for thy tidings. {Turns to the Queen.) 
Courage, sweet Queen ! Soon shall we know the gods' will. 
{To Eumen.) Stay thou near to us. Thou wert his bond- 
friend and close in his love. 

{The King, Queen and Eumen. advance to meet the Priests, 
who enter with slow, solemn step, bearing lighted torches. 
They do not bow before the King, but show an assurance 
and majesty equal to his own.') 

King. Greeting, servants of great Zeus ! What tidings of 
thy sacrifice? Were the omens favorable? 

1ST Priest {lifting his ha?id majestically). Live, oh. King ! 

Queen. Nay, delay not, good sirs ! Tell thy tidings ! 

1ST Priest. The omens showed displeasure among the gods. 
The smoke of the sacrifice ascended not to Zeus' nostrils, but 
was blown hither and thither upon the face of the earth. 

Queen. Alas, my son ! 

{Covers her face with her mantle. The others, who have 
crowded as close as fnay be to hear the tidi?igs of the 
Priests, shoiv fear and pity, and all cast troubled looks 
upon Endym.) 

King. Hast thou done all that may be done in this matter? 
1ST Priest. One trial more may we make, though I do 
truly think, oh. King, 'twill prove fruitless. 

King. Nevertheless, let nothing remain undone. 

{He leads the Queen back to her ladies, and remains be- 



34 



ENDYMION 



side her watching the ceremony of the Priests. The 
Priests surround Endym. Tiiey raise their torches high 
above him and wave tiiem siowly to and fro.') 

2D Priest. If the spell that holds thee here 
Be not of Immortals' making, 
I command this truth appear 
In thy instant waking. 

{The Priests march slowly about Endym. to their original 
stations, there raising their torches and waving the?n as 
before.) 

3D Priest. If the spell that holds thee here 

Be Immortals' mandate keeping, 
I command this truth appear 
In thine endless sleeping. 

(^The Priests march slowly about Endym. in the other direc" 
tion to their original statiofis.) 

1ST Priest. If thou mayest, Endymion, awake I 
2D Priest. Awake ! 
3D Priest. Awake ! 

{There is a fnoment^ s deep sile?ice, then the Priests turn 
aivay and approach the King.) 

1ST Priest. Thou seest, oh, King, 'tis fruitless. The gods 
have decreed, and who are we to avail against them ? 

King. I thank thee, servants of mighty Zeus. 

Queen. Oh, wise ones, what must we do? Must our son 
lie alone in the forest ? May none watch by him or tend him ? 
Or may he not haply be carried to the city and there placed in 
a state befitting the King's son ? 

1ST Priest. Whoso guards him or tends him risks the right 
displeasure of the gods. Whoso touches him risks death : and 
haply to bring him into the city were to bring ruin upon the 
whole people. 

Queen. Alas, sweet son ! 

{Hides her face in her mantle. The Priests march solemnly 
out to return to the city. As each passes the King he 
raises his hand in silent farewell. When they have gone, 
the King and Queen turn to Endym.) 



ENDYMION 35 

King. We must not linger here, sweet wife, but bearing 
patiently what the Immortals send, leave our son in their good 
keeping. Farewell, Endymion ! 

Queen. Farewell, sweet Endymion ! 

King. Come with us, friends. He who lingers here does 
so on his own grave peril. 

(^The guards lead the way as before, the King and Queen, 
ladies, Page, youths and maidens following, all avoiding 
the spot where Endym. lies, peering back at him curiously 
or sadly and talking together in low tones. Eumen., 
Kal. and Phry. remain.) 

Kal. Why dost thou linger, dear my lord ? If thou couldst 
do aught I would not hinder thee, but the wise men of the 
temple did send us hence. Come then with me ! 

Euaien. Aye, thou art right. Yet would I could give my 
happiness for his ! Come, Phrynia. 

Phry. {kneeling beside him and clasping his hand i?i hers). 
I fear nothing the gods may send. Here will I stay. 

Her. enters, once again disguised as the old crone. He 
approaches Phry. and peers at her curiously.) 

Her. In truth I am very old, and hear not well ; methought 
the maid called Phrynia loved no one ! 

Phry. Chide me not for my foolish jesting, good mother ! 
Nay, rather put forth thy power to help us who would do only 
good to thee. {Rises.) See, Kallisthene ! See, Eumenides ! 
'Tis the ancient dame who yesterday foretold us harm. 

Eumen. Good mother, here is one would give all that he 
hath to serve Endymion. If thou canst read the future, look, 
forthwith, and tell us if there is any waking for our prince. 
All that I have, I'll give thee an thou wilt. 

Kal. Pry thee, mother ! What dost thou see ? 

Her. Thou, too, pretty one ? Wouldst urge on thy boast- 
ful lover to his doom ? 

Kal. If there be doom, I shall share it. Eumenides boasts 
naught but the truth. 

Her. Then listen all ! I'll read ye the charm. {Traces 
fnystic signs ivith his stick ajid feii^fts to read them.) Whoso 
loveth the sleeper with such unselfish truth that he will give, 
for the power to waken him, his dearest possession — that power 
is his ! 



^6 ENDYMION 

( They stare at each other in silence for a moment. Then 
Phry. kneels again, impulsively, by Endym.) 

Phry. There is naught I would not give ! My dearest 
possession — aye, a thousand times ! 

Her. {craftily'). What is this dear possession that thou 
offerest so generously, foolish maid ? 

Phry. (shrinking back, hiding her face). Alas, alas ! I 
cannot ! 

Kal. What's thy sorrow, then ? 

Phry. That which I hold dearest is the gift of his very 
love. An I give that, unhappy will be his waking. I cannot ! 
I cannot ! (Hides her face, sobbing.) 

Her. {to EuMEN.). Youth is thoughtless ever, and those 
that love are blind. What's thy dearest, oh, faithful friend of 
princes ? 

Kal. {clifiging to him in terror). Nay, say it not, my 
sweet lord ! Say it not, Eumenides ! 

EuMEN. Nay, Kallisthene — thou hast e'en said it for me. 
'Tis thee I hold dearest, and 'tis thee I must e'en give to 
appease the gods. Thou wouldst not have me fail in loyalty, 
sweet ! 

Kal. Nay, Pll be brave. And ever in the heart, Pll know, 
thou' It keep my heart, though thou must not tell me of it, nor 
I, thee ! Farewell ! 

J" EuMEN. One kiss. {Kisses her tenderly.) Farewell ! Now 
go we to the priests with our tidings. 

Her. Nay — there's no need. The charm's broken! Look, 
where he stirs ! He wakes ! 

Phry. Endymion, my love ! 

Endym. {raising his head). Who calls ! Phrynia ! {Rises 
to his knee.) Nay, I but dreamed again — and yet — love, what 
dost thou here? 

Phry. {inoviiig back timidly). I did but call to wake thee, 
prince. 

Endym. But not thus thou calledst. What didst thou say ? 
(Rises ; goes to her.) Can 1 believe what echoes in mine ear? 
Repeat it, Phrynia ! 

Phry. I did say ''my love." 

Endym. (catching her in his arms). Then am I a god truly, 
as in my dream I was, for thou hast given me immortal joy ! 

(Kal. turns away and hides her face.) 



ENDYMIObf 37 

Her. {ii7iobserved by the rest who are bound tip in their ouni 
affairs, straightens his back and throws back his disguise^. 
Nay, Hermes will turn shepherd ! Mayhap among the silly 
sheep he'll find a brother. Sure there's that in mortal heart is 
beyond him ! {Lightly.) I'll carry strange tidings. \_Exit. 

Endym. Here's my Eumenides, most true of friends. Thou 
hast come to give me joy — is it not so ? 

EuMEN. Indeed, my prince, I give thee joy with all my 
heart. 

{Kisses Endym. 's hand.) 

Endym. And thy Kallisthene ! 'Tis our best omen, Phrynia, 
that these love-birds should give first greeting to our joy. Nay, 
here's a merry thought. Our wedding day shall be one. Two 
matings in a single hour. How sayst thou, sweet? Is it not 
well thought on ? (^Looks in surprise at their downcast faces.) 
Why, what's the matter? 

Phry. My lord, it may not be ! Our friends 

Kal. Nay, let me speak. 'Tis only that 

Eumen. Sweet friend, the honor thou dost offer 

Endym. What? All silent? {Laughs.) Oh, by my faith ! 
I smell a lovers' quarrel ! Give me thy hands, dear friends, 
and let me join them. Pleasure me thus ! What — you will 
not? 

Eumen. {kneeling). Listen, Endymion, and Pll tell thee 
all. Thou didst fall into a sleep of such depth and potency 
that thy loyal friends did fear for thee. And so — in sooth 'twas 

naught 

Phry. Nay, lord, I'll tell thee true. They did forswear for 
thy sake ! 'Tis true ! 

Endym. Eumenides ! What can I say to thee ? Kallis- 
thene ! Thy happiness for mine ! Nay, it cannot be 

Enter Ph^on, runni^ig. He looks at the group, then turns 
and beckons wildly, 

Ph^on. 'Tis true ! 'Tis true ! The prince hath waked ! 

{Other youths and maidens rush in and surround ^i^HYU. 
joyously, shouting, kissing his hand, etc.) 

All. Hail, Endymion ! Hail ! Hail ! 
Enter the guards » 



38 ENDYMION 

1ST. Guard. Room ! Make room for the King ! 

{A pathivay is made and the King leads in the Q^UEEi^,/o/- 
lowed by her ladies-in-waiting^ etc.) 

Queen (embracing Etssdym.). Oh, sweet son ! How happy 
is ihy mother. 

King. Indeed, this sudden joy hath made holiday of 
mourning. Endymion, in very sooth, I'm glad thou art re- 
covered. 

All (shouting). Long live our gracious King ! Long live 
Endymion I 

Endym. I am as yet confused, scarce knowing if I dream 
or am awake. I thank thee, friends, though yet I know not 
truly why you welcome me. 

Enter the Priests, hastily. They stop short on seeing Endym. , 
regarding him with awe. 

1ST Priest. Mighty Zeus ! A miracle in thy name ! 

The Others. A miracle ! A miracle in the name of Zeus ! 

Phry. {stepping forivard). Nay, in the name of truest 
friendship was this miracle wrought, since 'twas Eumenides gave 
up his love Kallisthene for power to wake his friend. 

Endym. (holding out his hand to Eumen.). Words are too 
poor and small, true friend, to tell thee half my love. But 
what of Kallisthene ? Alas, sweet maid, that thou should suf- 
fer this for me ! 

Kal. To Artemis, goddess of maidens, I vow myself while 
my life lasts ! 

(There is a crash and alternating flashes of light and dark- 
ness, ifi the midst of which Artemis appears, garbed for 
hunting a ftd carrying her silver bow. All kneel.) 

Artemis. Hear me ! And first to thee, Kallisthene, I 
speak, since 'twas thou summoned me ! Sweet maid thou art, 
and true, yet in thy heart my sister Aphrodite hath her shrine. 
Serve her, therefore, with thy Eumenides. None in my train 
may serve with an unwilling heart ! 1 give thee back thy vow. 
To thee, Endymion, I have a message too. Strange dreams 
haunt thee now, but thou'lt forget them soon and remember 
only thy joy of Phrynia. I have proved thee loyal and stead- 
fast, and here do promise thee my favor through all thy life. 
Joy to thee — the purest joy a mortal heart may know. Fare- 
well ! 



ENDYMION 39 

(^As before there are flashes of light and darkness^ in the 
midst of which Artemis vanishes.') 

All {springing to their feet). Honor and praise to Artemis ! 
Service to Artemis ! All hail Artemis ! 

King. Come to the city, friends, where we may sit and pa- 
tiently knit up the strands of all this marvelous happening. We 
do declare a general holiday ! Let there be feast and dance 
and revelry. 

All. A holiday ! A holiday ! 

( The King, Queen, ladies-in-waiting and Priests form a 
semicircle in the background. Endym. and Phry. lead, 
and EuMEN. and Kal. afid the other youths and maidens 
in pairs Join the dance ; while they are daticing, the cur- 
tain falls.) 



Utn HAL >4nfxr^ 



